Boxes are stacked high around my childhood bedroom, some labeled neatly—Clothes, Books, Dorm Essentials—others left blank because it is just random junk I threw in there that doesn't really belong anywhere else. I kneel on the carpet, and look under my bed to make sure I have not missed anything when cleaning under here earlier.
In the corner barely reachable from the side I'm on, is a small, dusty, and worn. I reach for it and drag it towards me. I sit crisscross on the floor and look at the box; the corners, smelling faintly of cedar and old paper. I lift the lid and my chest tightens. Inside are keepsakes I haven't thought about in years: a glitter-covered friendship bracelet, a stack of hand-drawn comic strips, and a few trinkets I once treasured.
If someone asked me today to describe my childhood in one word, I'd probably say... chaotic.Not because my family was wild or anything. No, my chaos had a name. And that name was Jace Carter.
The boy who convinced me at twelve years old that we could skateboard down Miller's Hill without helmets (spoiler alert: we could not). The boy who swore he'd marry me when we were five, then broke up with me at six because I wouldn't share my popsicle.
And the boy I haven't spoken to in almost three years.
Inside were pictures, doodles, friendship bracelets that had seen better days. At the very bottom, I spot it: a neatly folded up piece of paper, edges slightly torn and the words on the outside almost faded but still readable. I unfold it carefully, fingers tracing the handwriting I know so well.
Summer of Awesome – Harper & Noah – Age 12
I bite my lip, memories flooding back.
***Six years ago
It's a blazing sunny afternoon in my mind, the kind of day that makes the grass almost too bright to look at directly. Jace and I are sprawled on my bedroom floor, markers and scraps of paper scattered everywhere. He smells faintly of grass and soap, the way he always did after soccer practice. We're twelve, wild with ideas and laughter, convinced the world is ours to conquer.
"Okay, let's make a list," Jace says, eyes sparkling. "Everything we have to do before we're, like... real teenagers."
I laugh. "Deal. But we have to actually do it. No backing out."
We scribble down dares and dreams, everything from learn to skateboard without falling to have a secret midnight picnic. We swear an oath, pinky-to-pinky, to complete every single thing. That list is our pact, our tiny rebellion against the ordinary.
***
THE BUCKET LIST.Summer of Awesome – Harper & Jace – Age 12.Seventeen things scribbled in rainbow gel pen:☐ Eat dessert for breakfast.☐ Go for a midnight swim.☐ Road trip to the beach.☐ Watch the sunrise together.
I laugh so hard I almost cried. I haven't talked to Jace properly in two years. The list was ridiculous—half of it was illegal, the other half impossible. But something about it made my chest ache a little.
And then my phone buzzed.
Unknown Number: Guess what I found?
Attached is a photo of a crumpled piece of paper. My eyes widen—it's the list. My stomach flips. Only one person would send this. Only one other person could have a copy.
Jace.
Before I could overthink it, another text appeared.
Meet me? Same place.
I stare at the screen, heart thudding. Three years of silence. Three years of pretending I didn't care. And now, out of nowhere... this.
My thumb hovers over the keyboard. I should say no. I should ignore it. What if he's changed? What if we're strangers now?
But my fingers move anyway, like they've made up their mind without me.On my way.
The words glare back at me, too casual for what this feels like. My thumb hovers over send. For three agonizing seconds, I debate deleting it. Then, before I can lose my nerve, I hit send.The message whooshes away, and panic grips me instantly. No taking it back now.
Instead, I grabbed my keys. The metal is cool in my hand, grounding me when everything else feels like a dream. My legs move before my brain can catch up, carrying me through the quiet house and out into the fading light.
The summer air hits me like a memory—warm, thick with the scent of cut grass and salt from the bay. Every step toward my car feels like stepping back in time, like those three silent years have folded in on themselves, erasing the distance we've built.
The engine roars to life, but my thoughts are louder. What if he's changed? What if I have? The roads are too familiar, lined with places that still hold pieces of us—old diners, the park where we stayed out too late, the street where he first said that we were going to buy a house one day. I grip the wheel tighter, pushing down the ache in my chest.
The town's old dock hasn't changed in years. Same weathered planks, same peeling white paint on the railings. The water sparkles under the late-afternoon sun, and for a moment, it feels like I've stepped into a memory.And then I see him.
Jace.
He's leaning against the railing at the end of the dock, the kind of effortless stance that makes it look like he belongs everywhere. His hands are shoved in the pockets of his jeans, head tilted toward the water. His hair is a little longer than I remember, wind-tossed and sun-kissed like he's been living outdoors all summer.
My breath catches.
It's ridiculous, really. He's my best friend. The boy who once ate three entire boxes of mac and cheese because I dared him to. The one who made me watch every Marvel movie in release order, twice. The one who—
Turns his head.
Our eyes meet.
And in that second, everything feels the same... and completely different.
YOU ARE READING
The Bucket List Pact
RomanceWhat happens when your best friend, whom you haven't seen in three years, becomes the one person you can't imagine living without? Harper and Jace have been inseparable since childhood-partners in crime, keepers of secrets, and each other's safe pla...
